


Lost Cause

by SerenStone



Series: Destiny 2 Prompts [12]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Do Not Do As the Warlock Do, F/M, Other, We Stan Warlocks in this House
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:34:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22171123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenStone/pseuds/SerenStone
Summary: Prompt: Dhruv Visvanath's song "Lost Cause"
Relationships: Female Guardian/Ghost (Destiny)
Series: Destiny 2 Prompts [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583290
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Lost Cause

Shry ducked under the Fallen as it dove for her, rising to fire repeatedly into the milling mass of dregs and vandals. She flinched away from an explosion and threw herself backwards, calling crackling arc energies into her hands. With a familiar, shuddering boom the air tore around her and everything with range of her electricity cried out and fell. She kept up the stormtrance for as long as she could, hurling herself closer to pockets of Fallen scattered throughout the tunnels. When the trance fell from her, she was immediately swarmed again. 

Zavala had sent her into the EDZ, hoping that Devrim’s scouts were correct in having found some final hideaway of the Fallen. Maybe they could finally be rid of the menace. She knew better. Clearing a single bolthole wouldn’t finish them off. Zavala was back on his blind-hope-mongering soapbox.

Shry threw down a grenade, accepting the damage to herself as the cost of getting a little space to breathe in the horde of Fallen. She pulled down a rift to call up an Arc Soul to aid her, dropping the SMG in favor of a shotgun. Round and round the rift she danced, the Arc Soul covering her as she reloaded. Endlessly, the tide of Fallen pressed toward her. Inevitably, she ran out of ammo. Inevitably, she made a mistake, and a vandal’s knife found her ribs and a pulsewave ripped from her.

Growling her frustration, Chaos Reach tore out of her like a scream and churned through Fallen like heat through air. She couldn’t keep it up for long, not at the rate she was losing blood. She dropped to her feet already reaching for her shotgun when she felt the knife pass through her throat. Her hands worked long enough to pull the trigger once, twice. Two more dead Fallen at her feet even as she dropped to her knees, choking on blood and the uselessness of breathing. The world went dark.

_Shry sat quietly, her legs dangling over the edge of the cliff face. The thin air and endless clouds of the heights of Nessus spread out before her, infinite and finite, eternal and momentary. Stars glinted at her from the teal skies. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of Nessus. The not-quite-cricket chirps, the wind, the water, she could hear Failsafe’s voice, saw a flash of a wicked smile under mis-matched eyes. Something resembling peace settled over her._

The familiar feeling of Light tearing into her, pulling at her edges until she was thrust back into existence claimed her full awareness and she would have whimpered if she could. Stars, she was tired. Isaac’s Light drew her back into the tunnels beneath the EDZ, fully whole and fully living and she roared at the Fallen so she wouldn’t cry. She threw energy and herself in every direction, tossed guns away as she ran out of ammo for them, fell, came back, fell, came back, and when at last she stood alone she stared at all the carnage and shook her head. 

When Shry stood at Zavala’s post, staring past him at the Traveler, bitterness and resignation stewed within her. As always, he was pleased with her success. As always, he wanted more. As always, enough did not exist. The Last Safe City would never be safe. The Traveler wasn’t going to stay. In the end, it was all a lost cause. But what right did she have to complain? So was she.


End file.
